


No More Lonely Nights

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), steter - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Romance, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blowjobs, Boys Kissing, Breeding, Character Turned Into Vampire, Coming Untouched, Domestic Fluff, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Human/Vampire Relationship, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Hale has a Big Dick, Peter Hale is a Softie, Peter Hale is a vampire, Pining, Protective Peter Hale, Romantic Stiles Stilinski, Secrets, Sex mentioned, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stiles Stilinski is turned, Uncut Peter Hale, Vampire Mate, stiles is a police officer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16568201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Human Stiles loves Peter so much he can't imagine life without him.  When he realizes Peter Hale is a vampire, he begs to be turned, choosing eternal life.Peter doesn't want to lose Stiles, so he gives him the Dark Gift.Peter is the Vampire King of the West Coast and Stiles becomes his mate and Prince, ruling beside him.





	1. The Request

**Author's Note:**

> Same Steter love, different spn creatures. Just for a change...  
> I didn't put a death warning since in theory Stiles continues to live as a vampire and Peter's mate.

Love makes people do crazy things. Stiles found this out firsthand, in the most difficult way possible.  
  
When he first met Peter Hale, he was immediately distracted by the man’s confidence and impressive good looks. He had arrived at Peter’s venue on a call and left a while later with the mysterious owner’s card in his pocket.  
They went out the very next night. Peter Hale didn’t waste time.  
  
There was something odd about dating the dark, charming businessman. He was only available at night. Stiles couldn’t have imagined Peter’s secret. He just assumed the man was a gorgeous (albeit salacious) night club owner who slept during the day due to his type of professional activity.  
  
Thus, all their dates took place in the evenings. Stiles was wined and dined in the finest establishments and it didn’t take long for their mutual attraction to blossom. They fell into the sack together after their fourth outing. Stiles precipitated into Peter’s enormous, welcoming bed (and arms).  
  
The sex was smoking hot. Peter was even hotter. Stiles couldn’t get enough of his older “daddy,” riding his huge cock whenever he could. They would ravage each other for hours on end, Stiles nearly in tears from the amount of pleasure he was experiencing.  
He thought nothing of how cool Peter’s skin always felt or how his steel-blue eyes haunted his dreams. Stiles’ days were spent policing, just waiting for the sunset which would allow him access to his lover.  
Both were insatiable and their connection visceral.  
But it wasn't just about sex.   
  
Peter treated Stiles like a pet, showering him with affection and little gifts. He treasured him and protected him. He didn’t intend to fall for a human. (A human with creamy skin and doe eyes and the finest ass he’d ever seen. A human who was loyal to a fault and would give his own life for those he cared about). But he did.   
Stiles didn’t mean to fall in love with a supernatural creature. But he did. One night, toying with a blood kink, Peter lost control and bared his fangs. He had no choice but to reveal himself to Stiles. It was less of a shock than the vampire expected. But then again, he discovered Stiles’ best friend was a werewolf so…  
  
Love. It made Stiles pine and agonize until he convinced himself that he couldn’t live without Peter Hale. Days were torture and the nights never lasted long enough.  
He decided. He _wouldn’t_ live without Peter Hale. Stiles Stilinski begged to be turned and Peter was just blinded enough by his yearning for the boy that he acquiesced.  
  
Nothing would change what was to come. After all, he had pleaded with Peter for it. No one questioned the insanity behind the gesture and even though it had been a century since Peter had fathered any new fledglings, to their desperate minds it seemed like the logical thing to do. They loved each other and wanted to spend the rest of time together.   
  
The dark creature fell upon Stiles one starry night. One swoop. A tender embrace and a lover’s kiss later, fangs broke skin. Stiles moaned, a mix of delight and pain leaving him writhing in Peter’s arms.    
  
Peter had just fed. A young runaway who had wandered into the wrong bar on the wrong night. As the warm, metallic liquid pumped through his veins, the taste of copper on his tongue bringing life to his physical senses, his bite was diminishing Stiles’ mortality. Stiles, wearing only a ripped shirt, knelt on the floor. He was limp, plagued with an insatiable thirst.  
Everything was a contradiction. He felt fuller yet incomplete. His flesh was hot  _and_ cold, the mark on his neck searing.  
  
Peter had retreated once Stiles had drunk from him, moving to the bed across the room. He floated there, with the grace of the best ballerinas. Once he was comfortable, he removed his blood-stained clothes.  
His physique was perfect, as if carved out of alabaster. Powerful arms and abs and a little trail of dark hair that…   
  
Stiles tried not to look  _there_  but the sight of Peter’s thick uncut cock, so rigid and  _ready_ , was an easy distraction. His own somehow stirred despite his body going crazy with the change.   
“You’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, satisfied with himself. He admired his creation.  
Stiles was indeed very attractive. From his russet eyes to the chestnut hair that couldn’t be tamed… it all framed a tight, lithe body. Youth. Perfection.  
  
Stiles gazed in his maker’s direction, smiling faintly. He studied the lines of Peter’s face which seemed to be simultaneously chiseled yet… soft. It was after feeding that Peter looked his best, his bronze vampire eyes glowing from the rush. They would return to azure once the feeding peak faded, but until then he looked like a god.  
He _was_ divine, Stiles thought, and not without some subconscious envy.   
“You more,” the brunette replied truthfully.  
  
“Come here,” Peter demanded. “I want to look at you. Hold you. Come here my angel.”  
The boy blushed, an unnatural tinge to his cheeks from the sudden rush of his maker’s blood. Relishing the new heat within himself, enchanted by the sensational feeling of being alive yet not quite dead, his whole being shook.   
It was a strange line to walk, that of eternal life and human death. So many emotions were battling inside him.  It was probably normal he felt out of control.  
  
Something entered his mind, paranoid thoughts. He vaguely remembered having these panic attacks, the throat constricted upon itself, heart racing. Except his heart was slowing down. His stomach was cramping.  
What if the Dark Gift didn’t take? What if he perished right here never to see Peter or his loved ones again?  
Sadness paralyzed him.  
Life without Peter? An ETERNITY without Peter? No. It was too painful to consider. Stiles wiped his eyes as small pink drops fell slowly upon his shirt, leaving tiny rose-colored stains against the white fabric.   
  
“Why do you weep, child? Does the hunger pain you so?” Peter called him over to the bed with a curled finger, and Stiles finally obeyed. The mattress dipped under both their weights.  
Soft fingertips traced the ruby tracks on Stiles’ cheeks as comforting words flowed from Peter’s tongue like a siren song.  “Stiles,” the name spoken so lightly and softly it was like a caress. “Stiles, why do you weep? You’re perfect, my angel. You’re mine. Nothing will happen to you.”    
Stiles gazed, eyes saucered and his face for a moment frighteningly ashen.   
  
“Peter, I’m sad. I can’t imagine leaving you when you’ve given me so much.”   
The words came out dry and raspy, fueled by sorrow and hunger. Peter grinned, fangs shimmering in the low lamp light. There was still a hematic stain on his chin.  
“My sweet one, all is not lost. I’ll never ask you to leave. I don’t want you to leave. I love you, Stiles. We shall reign together forever. I’m only stronger with you by my side, pet.”

Stiles feigned a smile, revealing his teeth. They were ivory and strong and visibly metamorphosing, growing longer and narrower. Stiles was sprouting his fangs. He touched them with the tip of his tongue.  
“But what if…” Stiles managed, but the rest of the phrase faded. He grimaced in pain.  
  
Peter raised a cold, pale hand and touched his smooth neck.. The skin was so supple, yet somehow hard. Like cashmere on marble. Peter could feel the blood rushing in Stiles’ jugular, a steady and sweet gush, heartbeat low.  
“How you remind me of someone I once knew, Stiles. Many, many years ago. Although you are not of his bloodline, you resemble him so. Don’t fear, pet. I will never let you go. Eternity shall be ours.”   
  
Dawn was near. Stiles felt himself grow colder, and a shiver overtook him. He looked to Peter for comfort. He didn’t want to sleep alone, face the night of the change alone.   
  
The anxious sun rose just as Peter reached for his Stiles. “Come closer. Lie with me.”  
Stiles nuzzled his maker. Peter cupped his face and kissed the top of his nose. The boy sighed into him. Their lips met and their tongues softly brushed, fang clanging fang. The taste of Stiles' blood mixed with Peter's made the brunette purr.   
  
Peter smiled, watching Stiles' pupils change. His eyes were becoming golden.   
Stiles had a face of true innocence, and turning didn't alter that. His honey eyes were mirrors reflecting the child-like rapture and exuberance he possessed. If Peter looked deep enough, he could see straight into Stiles’ soul.  
“Hush now and sleep, my love. It will all be over tomorrow.”  
  
Stiles would need guidance. He was a fledgling. Come the vampire dawn he would need blood. Fresh blood. Stiles would have to feed on his first human. Peter would aid him, start him off with someone strong and vibrant, a symbol of what he could become in a few centuries.  
Hot and thick, flowing slow or fast, blood tied them together. It was what tethered all their kind.  
  
For now, however, Stiles was confused, battling his body and psyche for some vampiric equilibrium.   
“I will wake up, tomorrow? Right, Peter?”  
“Of course.” The maker squeezed him tight. “You will wake as my beautiful vampire mate. And eternity will be ours for the taking.”  
“I love you, Peter. Thank you for this.”  
A hand stroked Stiles’ hair and their long legs intertwined. “It was a selfish act but I couldn’t face the rest of time without you. I love you, Stiles.”


	2. Another Vampire Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has been a vampire for a month. He and Peter are enjoying their new life together.  
> Peter receives worrying news that puts him in a bad mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this deserved at least a couple more chapters and I enjoy writing vamp Peter and Stiles. I've changed it to present tense as well.

Peter stirs, wrapped in blood red silk. The sunset has just pushed the remaining rays past the horizon.   
A hand reaches, the King’s chest swelling with trepidation. He grazes an arm. A sigh of relief.  
Lungs deflate and his breathing slowly returns to normal.   
Stiles is safe. Stiles is asleep next to him.   
  
Peter has repeated this gesture for the past month. Ever since Stiles turned. He wakes from terrible nightmares where his love is being killed right in front of him. Stiles takes a stake through the heart and Peter is chained to the wall like a dog and can do nothing to save him. In a panic he reaches for him but flesh strains against steel and he cannot save him in time.   
Stiles looks at him, pleading with his round russet eyes, mouthing “I’ll love you for eternity” as he's assassinated. Peter shrieks in grief.  
  
Thus, as Peter wakes in a cold sweat, he reaches for Stiles. Every night. His first thought is Stiles’ safety. Stiles is his Alpha and Omega. His everything.  
   
It wasn’t always like this. Peter never let anyone stay in his bed. He had pets, yes. Too many to count. But when he was done with them he sent them on their way.   
Allowing someone to slumber next to you takes trust, and that is one thing Peter has always struggled with.   
Peter Hale didn’t become the vampire King of the West Coast by being merciful or kind. He is known for his unemotional demeanor and ruthlessness. His tongue bites harder than his fangs, and he learned early on how to use his words wisely. (Being over 300 hundred years old, he’s had to adapt his language to the times, of course).   
Peter is as ferocious as he is beautiful. Awe-inspiringly so some might say. His voice is melodic, and he’s soft spoken… until he isn’t. Then even the parapets tremble in fear before him.

Peter didn’t allow anyone to get close to him, be it human, vampire, or werewolf. (And who would ever want a were as a friend, anyway?!) He was so cautious and mistrustful that for the better part of the last century, he was alone. Well, except for the small army of minions he had in his employ. Every King needs a legion.   
Then Peter met Stiles Stilinski. A human. Who in the span of a handful of months turned his world upside down.   
  
Stiles, his dark prince. 

Stiles stirs, rolling over to face his King as he stretches. Peter caresses his cheek, kissing him softly on his ruby mouth.  
“Good morning my golden prince.”  
The fledgling grins, lifting his head in a request for another peck. “Good morning, Peter.”  
“Did you sleep well, Stiles?”  
The brunette nods, fingering Peter’s muscled bicep lightly. “I always do with you at my side, holding me.”  
“I’m glad. Are you hungry, angel? Shall I call for breakfast?”  
  
Stiles shifts to the left, pressing himself up against his maker. “I’m hungry for _you_.”  
He smiles slyly as his hand reaches for Peter’s cock. Peter growls when Stiles fists it, pulling back the foreskin on his first tug.  
“I want you, my King. I need you.” Stiles inches down and slides most of the stiff member into his mouth.  
Peter bucks lightly and hisses.  
“Fuck, Stiles…” he whispers.  
  
The brown head bobs as his hot cavity envelopes his King’s cock. Stiles sucks on the head and licks lazy stripes down the shaft. He reaches Peter’s balls and sucks on them, making a pop noise as he releases one and then the other.  
“Such a naughty pet…”  
Peter pulls him off gently. He throws the silk sheet off of them and gets on top. His tongue meets Stiles’, and they deepen until their breathing labors.  
  
Peter kisses his way down Stiles’ body in worship. First his chin, then the middle of his neck. Past the hollow of his gorgeous pale throat, next Peter maps his chest and stomach. Lower and lower until Stiles’ dick disappears.  
  
“Ugh fuck,” Stiles writhes, bunching the fabric into his clenched fists. “I want you, Peter,” he repeats. “Please, my King.”  
Peter comes up for air, face flush and his lips coated in saliva and blood. He bit into Stiles’ tender inner thigh moments before devouring his sex.  
  
“Anything for you, my love. Your wish is my command.”  
Stiles is about to flip when Peter stays him. “No, angel. I want to look at your gorgeous face.”  
The prince bites into his lower lip, his fangs shiny. His eyes are already half-lidded from the earlier ministrations. His member stands at attention.  
Peter grabs Stiles by the legs and pulls him close. He drops three fingers, inserting them into Stiles, as he claims his mouth once more.  
“Mmm,” Stiles whimpers, fucking himself on Peter’s fingers.  
“More, please… fuck me…” the prince begs.  
  
The King’s hips roll and his thick cock buries itself inside his lover. The stretch is incredible and Peter groans when the heat builds.  
“Yes… fuck…” Stiles moans. His fingernails dig into Peter’s perfect backside as he plunges in and out.  
The prince comes undone beneath him.  
“Yeah, fuck yeah… my King… make me yours again and again…”  
“You’re mine,” Peter wails. “You’re my dark prince for all eternity.”  
  
Stiles lets his lips fall open, looking straight into Peter’s bronze eyes. When he’s fed, or he’s aroused, his eyes change from a steel blue to a light bronze. They’re breathtaking.  
Peter continues his assault, skin striking skin.  
“My perfect prince…” Peter remains fully penetrated, his balls now slapping against Stiles’ buttocks.  
  
Stiles tenses, his nails draw blood.  
“I’m cumming, Peter… I’m cumming…”  
Peter watches as Stiles’ dick twitches, ropes of cum pumping out. Most times now Stiles is so turned on he comes without touch.  
  
“Oh fuck… fuck…. Peter I love you my King my all…”  
The voice thick with desire and pleasure sends Peter to his own end.  
“I love you Stiles… fuck… I’m cumming angel!”  
Peter collapses onto Stiles’ sticky torso, biting into Stiles’ carotid right in the spot where he had marked him.  
  
“Oh god…”  
Hot semen fills Stiles until it leaks out from around Peter’s shaft and stains the sheet below a creamy white.  
They lock lips as their panting subsides and Peter slips out.  
  
Stiles embraces his King, who brushes his hungry, blood-stained lips against Stiles’ breast.  
“I love you so much, Stiles. You make me want to be good. I’ve never been good. Not for a long time, anyway.”  
Stiles rakes his fingers through Peter’s dark hair, pecking him on the top of his head. He smiles to himself.  
“You are good. That’s always been inside you, Peter. I just helped to bring it to the surface.”  
  
Peter rests his chin on Stiles’ sternum and gently touches the moles on his cheek.  
“I don’t think I deserve you, Stiles.”  
The prince guffaws and angles in. “I think maybe it’s the other way around. Regardless… you’ve got me now. For eternity. So you better not get sick of me, okay?”  
The King shakes his head and laughs. “Not in a million years, pet. Not in a million years.”  
  
They study each other’s gaze for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between them.  
Peter lifts himself onto his elbows. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”  
Stiles agrees. “I’m a bit peckish myself.”  
  
The King gets up and dresses in a dark robe.  
“What do you feel like? Boy? Girl? Blonde? Dark?”  
Stiles pulls the sheet up over his groin and pretends to think hard.  
“How about a blond boy? Do we have one of those?”  
Peter grins. “Have you seen me? I’ve got all types wanting to be my Surrenders. Unless you want a bag of blood, I mean we have those too for emergencies.”  
Stiles frowns. “No. I’d like a hot meal, thanks.”  
“Coming up.”  
  
Peter walks across the large chamber and is about to call his guard when there’s a knock.  
“Sire?”  
Peter pulls open the heavy door.  
“Stefan. What’s wrong?”  
  
A gorgeous vampire stands at the threshold holding an envelope. He has piercing violet eyes and jet black hair. A perfect mouth, upper lip a pouty heart that stretches into two hills when he speaks.    
“Sire, there is a message for you.”  
The envelope is heavy card stock, and Peter recognizes the wax seal and handwriting immediately. He takes it from Stefan and sighs heavily.  
“Thank you. Is there anything else?”  
Stefan hesitates, looking past Peter’s shoulder at the prince in the bed.  
“There is someone here to see Prince Stiles.”  
  
Peter cocks an eyebrow and Stiles asks from his place in bed, “Who is it?”  
Peter sniffs Stefan and cringes.  
“I think I know, Stiles.”  
  
Stefan takes a step back and adjusts his suit jacket. “There is a… dog downstairs. Called Scott.”  
The king grimaces. “I could smell that wolf on you. Stefan please go take a shower immediately.”  
Stiles almost hops out of bed, forgetting he’s naked.  
“Scott is here? Where can I see him?”  
  
Peter half-turns. “Stiles, please get dressed and entertain your friend in the far wing. I don’t like the smell of wet dog in my house for any longer than necessary.”  
Stiles makes an annoyed face and wraps the sheet around himself. A second later he’s at Peter’s side.  
“Stefan, tell him I’ll be down as soon I’ve dressed… and eaten.”  
“Yes Stefan, please bring us that cute Surrender… the blond one named James. Thank you. That will be all.”  
  
Stefan bows in respect. “Yes, sire. Prince.”  
  
Peter shuts the door and presses his back to it. Stiles looks at the envelope.  
“Who’s that from? That’s pretty old school. Wax seal and all.”  
Peter turns it over in his hands and finally opens it. A quick read of flourished handwriting and his expression turns sour.  
“Shit,” he mutters.  
“What?” Stiles asks again.  
“We’re going to have a guest tomorrow. Not a very welcome one but I can’t turn him away.”  
“Okay. I bite. Pun intended. Who is it?”  
  
Peter’s blue eyes turn bronze. So they also change when he’s pissed.  
“It’s my nephew, Derek Hale.” Peter’s tone doesn’t betray his mood in the slightest.  
“What’s wrong with that?”  
“He’s my sister’s son. She had him with a werewolf. He’s a half-breed.”  
“And?” Stiles still doesn’t see the problem.  
“He has an issue with me because I killed his mother.”  
Stiles’ jaw drops. “Okay. Was this recent?”  
  
Peter rips up the letter and throws it in the trash. “If you consider 200 years ago recent, then yes.  
Harboring grudges and craving revenge kind of runs in the Hale family so… this will be an interesting meeting. I haven’t seen my nephew since. He's been living in Europe.”  
  
Stiles squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “You won’t have to face him alone. I’m here now.”  
The King leans in and steals a smooch.  
“I know. And I’m thankful. I love you because you’re so caring.”  
  
Another knock interrupts their kiss.  
“Sire? The Surrender is here.”  
Peter grins. “Oh… breakfast!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration from Anne Rice's "The Vampire Chronicles."
> 
> Edit: I’m not sure there will be a third chapter to this as I stopped writing for the fandom in March.


End file.
